


Charles Xavier X Reader – Epilogue

by writeyouin



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men (Original Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Depression, Reader-Insert, Suicidal Thoughts, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 19:36:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14244285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeyouin/pseuds/writeyouin
Summary: Charles always promised to stay out of the reader's mind when they married. However, when he sees the first glimmers of depression, he has to break his promise. Trigger warnings of depression and suicidal thoughts.





	Charles Xavier X Reader – Epilogue

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings of depression and suicidal thoughts.

Charles shook you repeatedly, disbelieving what his senses were showing him. You weren’t dead, you couldn’t be. Yet, as your eyes rolled lifelessly back into your head, there was no denying it. The longer Charles stared, the worse the scene got; he began noticing new things, like the rest of the horrific scene was just catching up. The empty pill bottle was unscrewed on the bedside table, some of the contents strewn on the bed next to you. Dry vomit and spittle clung to your cheeks, remnants of the horrible decisions past. A notepad with a hastily scribbled message, it’s only word, “Sorry,” was next to your abnormally pale palm. How could this have happened? How could he have missed all the signs? Unable to do anything else, he clung to you, feeling your cold seep into him, and let out an anguished, monstrous howl.

With a sickening jolt, Charles woke up, the scent of sweat and fear clinging to him as a painful reminder of the nightmare past. Was it a nightmare? He looked at you, holding himself back from shaking you again lest he wake you. Yes, you were most certainly alive; alive, and dreaming sweet dreams that he would never know. From the day the two of you became a couple, he’d promised never to use his mutation on you; a sign of a healthy, trusting relationship. Despite that promise, he longed to read you now, for how else could he handle the horrible sights which would probably haunt him for the rest of his life. He didn’t however, instead he settled for resting his arm over you, calmed until he could talk to you in the morning.

* * *

At the first sight of your smiling face the next morning, Charles was relieved; he didn’t know what had brought on the nightmare but he became quickly reassured that it would never happen again.

“Are you okay?” You asked upon pouring him a coffee over breakfast in the unusually quiet kitchen.

“Hmm?” He moaned blearily, having an unpleasant flashback of the night before.

“You look tired, something wrong?”

“Oh it’s- it’s nothing.”

He stopped, memorising the curve of your face and the way you smelt, using everything he could to reassure himself you weren’t going to disappear.

“Charles,” You grabbed his hand over the breakfast counter, “You’re looking at me weird, if something’s wrong, you can tell me. Don’t get wrapped up in other people’s problems today, just tell me yours.”

Charles sighed, he should’ve known he couldn’t hide things from you, one of the things he loved most about you was your perception. “It’s silly really, I uh, had a nightmare and it keeps coming back to me, that’s all.”

“A nightmare? What about?”

“Oh you know… It was, well… I can’t remember all the details but I’d lost something dear to me and I suppose it’s still bothering me.”

“Aww, sweetheart. You know, I’ll bet I know why it’s really bothering you.”

Charles swallowed uncomfortably, watching you closely as you rounded the table towards him.

“You’re so used to being in control of your own mind that this scared you a little. Don’t worry though, nothing’s going to happen okay? You’ve got this school, you’ve got Hank, you’ve got your abilities.”

“And you.” He added, a little forcefully.

“Yeah… and me.” You brushed off the awkward pause in your speech by kissing the top of Charles’ head before taking his coffee cup away, humming a distracted tune as you washed up.

* * *

In the coming months, much like the nightmare, Charles begun to notice little things he hadn’t before, or rather, the little things he noticed before were no longer there. It had started with singing, or the lack thereof. Where you used to sing little ditties whilst washing dishes or cleaning up, you didn’t anymore. Then there was a drop in your usual activities; where you used to find enjoyment, it seemed there was none. After that it was your overall appearance which you were taking less care of than usual. Finally, Charles could no longer sit idly by and watch as you neglected to eat or sleep on a regular basis. However, no matter how often he tried to broach the subject, you would give him your all knowing smile and put his suspicions down to paranoia or over-tiredness. Fear for you is what drove him to his final decision, when you next slept, he would break his promise and look into your mind.

Charles watched calmly as you drifted off to sleep, his mind in turmoil over what he was about to do. He was disgusted with himself but the memory of your corpse spurred him on to what was undoubtedly a necessary evil. Gently, he stroked your temple with his thumb, closing his eyes and submerging himself within your deepest thoughts. Here, while you were sleeping, Charles saw worlds upon worlds, all comprised of the things you loved; each new item presented itself on a new level, he felt almost like Alice, falling down the rabbit hole.

On one level was memories of him such as, the day you both met and your first date, as well as other more menial days in the background.

Another level provided such items representing you hobbies. Then there were islands with your family, imagination, highly valued traits. Upon closer inspection Charles notice that all the islands were behind locked gates, yet still functioning in the subconscious. Then, on the very bottom level, a full length mirror with no glass stood tall, two versions of you stood on either side. One was the very you which Charles loved, colourful and full of life. The other was pale and clammy, she was reaching for the first you with a look that practically screamed for help. Charles wanted desperately to hug that version of you, to find out all that was wrong and fix it; he would reshape the entire universe if it would help you recover from whatever was wrong.

Reluctantly, Charles withdrew from your mind, resolving to search further when you awoke; he’d gleamed all he could from your subconscious, for now there was nothing left to do but wait.

* * *

Charles fought not to cry as you aimlessly paced the lake for the third time that morning. Where you would’ve normally picked a spot to read a book or tried (and failed) to skim a stone across the lake’s glassy surface, you simply paced instead. In all his years, he’d seen everything the human mind could throw at him, depression was no different; he’d simply never imagined it would happen to someone so close to him before. Deep down, he knew the real you was in there, attempting to rekindle your old passions to fix the wounds inside. However, without talking to someone or asking for help, even from a stranger, the ongoing battle would be much harder and probably the road to losing you altogether. After much consideration, he realised that his initial nightmare had been your cry for help, whether you knew it or not.

Gathering up all his strength, he approached you, inviting you to sit with him.

“Hey sweetheart, good day?” You asked, sitting on the grass next to him.

“Yes well… (Y/N), we need to talk about something important and I need you to be honest with me.”

“Okay, whatever you want, what’s up?”

“You… You haven’t been well lately and I need you to tell me what’s wrong. You can take all the time you need but please, please talk to me.”

“Is this about the weight loss?” You laughed breezily. “Because if it is-”

Charles slipped into your mind again while you joked on. He gasped as intense emotions hit him like a freight train. Behind your easy smile was tortured, agonised screaming. Fury and self-loathing consumed your waking thoughts, yelling their profanities into the abyss.

“You hate yourself.” Charles whispered, silencing you. “Worthless. Stupid. Not good enough.”

You winced as Charles quoted every bad thought you’d ever had, it sliced in a new way you’d never thought possible. You had thought that the numbness had finally taken over but with each word Charles spoke, the depression bore down stronger than ever before.

“B-Broken-” Charles shuddered, tears now streaming from his eyes unchecked. “You don’t believe I could ever love somebody as damaged as you.”

You cried. It wasn’t sobbing or wailing. You never choked or faltered. You simply cried; fat, silent tears rolled down your cheeks, one after the other.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered.

Charles grabbed hold of you, hugging your waist tightly. He’d never meant to make you apologise, he just wanted to help you; to heal you. “No, don’t ever be sorry for this. I love you with all my heart (Y/N) and we’re going to help you, one way or another.”

“How?”

“It’s a long road ahead and it will be the hardest thing you’ve ever done but you don’t have to face it alone. Please, promise me, you’ll let me help you.”

Charles’ plea rang in your ears, waking something within you that you’d thought was lost, a small spark, tiny though it was; the desire to live. You wrapped your arms tightly around him, surrendering to the overwhelming waves of sadness, fear and pain you’d kept locked up.

“Okay.” You croaked. “H-help me.”


End file.
